Percy's Boyfriend
by Chasmfiend
Summary: In which Fred and George notice that their older brother is sharing a bed with some bloke named Peter Pettigrew.
1. A Name on the Map

"I think I've got it," Fred whispered softly enough that George almost didn't hear him over the din of the common room.

"The parchment?" George whispered back, but he didn't wait for an answer. "Here." He took Fred's hand and pulled them behind one of the chairs in the corner.

Fred pulled the parchment from his pocket, where he had taken to carrying it ever since coming to the conclusion that Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were trying to show them something. He paused for half a second, suddenly afraid that he was wrong and that the parchment really didn't do anything other than encourage people to try out passwords on it. It was a good enough prank on its own, and Fred would have admired it if it hadn't been done to him.

"Oh, come on. Show me."

Fred touched his wand to the parchment and said, as loudly as he dared in the crowded common room, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Ink blossomed from the tip of his wand and spelt out the words, 'Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs proudly present the Marauder's Map'.

"So that's what they were for," George said. "I was starting to think that someone was trying to take the mickey out of us. But a map of Hogwarts, that's worth a password." He leaned closer to the map, taking in a number of corridors he had not known existed. "I think this even has the secret passageways on it."

"Better than that," Fred said. "Look!" He pointed to a small dot that was moving down one of the third floor corridors. "Argus Filch," he read, "You don't suppose-"

"There's one way to find out." George scanned the map, quickly fixing on Gryffindor tower. The common room was a mass of dots, each labeled with a name, dancing around each other as Gryffindor celebrated their first win of the Quidditch season. "See, here we are, in this corner. And Bill and Charlie are over by the fire, talking to Livia Cohen and Keith Brown."

Fred looked up and quickly checked the room for Bill and Charlie. "That they are. Now, Livia's left, she's going back over to the table with the food."

"Yes, she is." George smiled down at the parchment- _map._ "This is brilliant. We can use it to avoid Filch, track people down... I think some of these secret passageways lead off the grounds. Do you think any of them will get us into Hogsmeade? That way we wouldn't have to rely on Charlie to get us Zonko's stuff."

"Better than that." Fred grinned wickedly at the third year boy's dorm. "Didn't Percy say he wanted to study for his transfiguration exam away from all us noisy hellions."

"Yeah, why?"

Fred pointed. Percy's dot was up in the dormitory where it was supposed to be, but right next to it, almost touching was another dot marked Peter Pettigrew. "So that doesn't really look like studying, does it?"

It really didn't, but George was willing to give Percy the benefit of the doubt. "Maybe they're sharing a desk."

"We don't have desks in our dorms." Which had turned out to be a bit of a problem, as Fred and George found themselves constantly needing to shuffle sensitive documents out of sight when they were working in the common room.

"Maybe Percy borrowed one from an empty classroom." A brilliant idea, even if not the sort of thing George could really picture Percy doing. "We could probably manage it now that we've got this map. All we'd have to do is get up at three in the morning and avoid Filch."

"I really don't see Perce as the type to steal a desk," Fred said. "I think he's snuck off to have some private time with Mr. Pettigrew. Speaking of which, I don't believe we've met the fellow."

"There's an Agatha Pettigrew in our year," George said thoughtfully. "She's a Hufflepuff, if I remember rightly."

"Probably Percy's Pettigrew's younger sister," Fred said. "Probably Percy's Pettigrew's, that's a bit of a mouthful. We need to think of something better to call him."

"Percy's boyfriend," George suggested. "Since that's what you think he is."

"Percy's boyfriend," Fred repeated. "You know, I reckon we should share this new development with Bill and Charlie. They ought to know that one of their little brothers has moved on from Hogsmeade dates to snogging in the dorms."

"They'll want to know how we found out," George said. "And Bill will probably get after us for spying on Percy."

"We don't have to tell him about the map," Fred said. "In fact, I vote we don't. Head Boy Bill might not approve of us using it to get up to mischief. Might even confiscate it and use it to make sure we don't go sneaking out after hours."

"He'd get after us worse if we didn't tell him about the map," George said. "Think about it, Fred. Seeing him on the map was just innocent fooling around. If we claim to have walked in on him, then we have to come up for a reason to be in his dorm."

Fred snorted. "Like we need a reason to pay a visit to our beloved, highly esteemed-"

"The last time we went in his room we hid dungbombs under his mattress."

"Point taken." Fred had to think for a minute before he came up with something else plausible. "We could say we wanted help with our charms essay, the one due Monday that we've been putting off."

"On Saturday night, while everyone except Percy, who has already told everyone that he needs to study for his transfiguration test, is in the common room celebrating our victory against Ravenclaw? Bill will see right through that one." George frowned. "The only other thing I can think to do would be to say one of his roommates told us, and if none of them know, he'll think we're making it up."

"But if we tell one of them-"

"They'll tell Bill they heard it from him and then Bill will _know_ we're making it up," George said. "Besides, Bill is bound to find out about it eventually. And, if we tease Percy a little bit about it before he does-"

"-then Percy won't tell Bill about it."

Identical grins spread across the twin's faces.


	2. Before Breakfast

Fred and George were up bright and early the next morning to stake out a table by the fireplace with a good view of the staircase to the boy's dorms. Then they waited.

An hour and a half later, when the charms essays were mostly done and it seemed like every _except_ Percy had left the dorms, Fred finally consulted the map. "He's still up there. And _Peter_ is with him. I suppose that means Percy's roommates all know what's going on."

"Not necessarily," George said. "The beds have hangings, so if Percy's boyfriend were with him when everyone else came up-"

"Maybe that's why he hasn't come down yet." Fred tapped the map experimentally. "We need some way to get back to the parchment. With the map out like this it's only a matter of time before someone sees it."

"There's probably another password to wipe the map," George said. "Only this time we have to guess it without help."

Fred shrugged. "It's probably the same as the password to bring it up. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

But the map remained as it was. "Hmmmm." Fred pursed his lips and pulled the map closer to his face. "Maybe it's the opposite. I flippantly claim that I am down to much bad?" Nothing. "I solemnly swear that I am up to good?" Still nothing. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no mischief?"

"It's got to be shorter than that," George said, "if you're supposed to be able to wipe it quickly. I mean, if someone sneaks up on you and you've only got seconds to stop them from finding it you'd be better off stuffing it in your pocket than rushing through 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good' or something like that."

"Fine then," Fred said. "Off? Wipe? Go away? Conceal?"

"It'll be more elegant than that." George slipped behind Fred and touched his own wand to the map. "Something smoother. I dunno. Secrets safe? Mischief managed?"

The map vanished, and Fred was left holding a blank sheet of parchment. "Yes! George, you have your moments of brilliance."

"As do you, Fred. Speaking of moments, how much longer to you think Percy is going to be? He's going to miss breakfast if he doesn't come down soon." George was not yet willing to call it quits and wait until they ran into Percy again to tease him, but it was getting close.

"He was moving around by the time you wiped the map," Fred reported. "So he should be down soon. He doesn't usually take _that_ long to shower."

"I'm sure he takes longer at school when he doesn't have five people all wanting a wash telling him to hurry it up. I know I do." And with that George turned back to his charms essay, hoping to get it out of the way before he got distracted by Percy-baiting.

Sure enough Percy came tromping down the stairs not ten minutes later, still looking rather disheveled.

"Hello, brother dearest," Fred said, flashing a rather predatory grin. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

Percy glared at the twins, and stalked off towards the portrait hole without answering.

"You're making us feel unloved," George said. "Not answering our thoughtful questions concerning your well-being like this."

"One might think you didn't care," Fred added. He swept the essays into his bag and made to follow Percy down to breakfast.

"Or that you regard your younger brothers as mere annoyances to be brushed off when you aren't forced to acknowledge their presence." George let Fred deal with the schoolwork, and got up close to Percy, just within his older brother's comfort zone.

"I suppose you two think that was very funny," Percy said. He faced resolutely forward, not even glancing at George.

"Funny enough," Fred piped up from a few paces back.

"No, the big question is what Peter thought," George said. "Did he tell you?"

"Peter?" Percy repeated. "Peter Pickering? Was he the one you put up to that?" Despite himself, Percy slowed enough that Fred was able to catch up to him quickly.

"Put up to what?" George asked. "If you're talking about the niffler last week, we had nothing to do with it." George spread his hands in a gesture of innocence that could only be taken seriously by people who didn't know him.

"You 'borrowed' a niffler from Professor Kettleburn when you went down to Charlie's class," Percy said. "I know because Charlie told me. And if you keep lying about stuff like that, I'll write Mum."

George blanched a little at the threat, but he did his best not to let it show. "So what did happen last night that got you so wound up? You wouldn't mind telling your favorite twin brothers, would you?"

"Or do you want to tell Bill first," Fred said. "Because he's Head Boy and all and can do things about it."

"Like write Mum," George added.

Percy looked from George to Fred and back again with obvious confusion. "What does writing Mum have to do with anything?"

"I dunno," Fred said. "Depends on what there is to write to Mum about, because we heard-"

"-that ickle Percykins has got himself a boyfriend," George finished.

Percy turned bright red. "Who told you that?" he demanded.

"You know how talk is," Fred said. "Lots of people say lots of things, and you can never quite remember who said what."

"Fine," Percy spat. "I'll let it drop, just this once, but I expect the pair of you to lay off about it, _And_ fix whatever Pickering did to my trunk; I don't want it spewing goo all over me every time I open it."

"Someone charmed your trunk to spit goo at you?" George said at the same time Fred said, "Is _that_ what you were doing all morning?"

"Don't act like you don't know about it," Percy said. "And you'd better get it fixed today, or-"

"You'll write Mum," Fred finished. He raised an eyebrow at Percy, mentally daring him to do it.

"Or I'll tell Bill you've put my roommates up to destroying my things," Percy said. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get to breakfast before the food disappears." He sped down the corridor, faster than the twins could keep up.


	3. Agatha Pettigrew

The remainder of Fred and George's Sunday was spent attempting to fix Percy's trunk. In the end, they had to get Bill to do most of the work, but George was fairly sure he could replicate the spell that had been used to make the goo in the first place so it wasn't a total waste of time.

They were both agreed that it would be best to give Percy some time to calm down before they brought up the subject of his boyfriend again, so the twins patiently waited until dinner on Monday to seek out the Pettigrews. Unfortunately, Peter left dinner before George and Fred had set up camp outside the Great Hall, but they spotted Agatha Pettigrew on her way back to the dorms.

"Excuse me," George called from the corner the twins had been hiding in. "You're Agatha Pettigrew, right?"

Agatha nodded. She looked a bit confused and a little wary, but she walked over to George anyway.

George smiled in a way that was supposed to be reassuring, but only made Agatha narrow her eyes. "Aren't you two those Weasley boys that lost Gryffindor eighty points for changing the instructions on Professor Snape's board."

"Oh, yeah," George said, his smile widening. "That was one of our better ones, if I do say so myself. 'Course, about half of the class was reading out of their books and made it right, but it took the rest of them almost an hour to figure out why they couldn't get their potions to turn green."

Fred cleared his throat loudly.

"But that's not what we wanted to talk about," George said, "We actually wanted to know about your brother Peter, because-"

"Peter," Agatha repeated blankly. "I don't have a brother named Peter. Sorry." In the moment of stunned silence that followed, Agatha began to walk away. She stopped half a second later, her face lighting up in recognition. "Oh, you mean Porter."

"No, it was definitely Peter," Fred said. "His first name isn't Peter, is it, and he just goes by Porter because he likes it better." Even if Peter Porter Pettigrew was a horrific tongue twister that no parent should burden their child with.

"We saw a plaque in the trophy room with the name Peter Pettigrew on it," George said by way of explanation, "for special services to the school and we were wondering what they were. Do you have any cousins?"

"None with the last name of Pettigrew," Agatha said. "My dad's only brother died in the war." She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't suppose you remember the date on the plaque."

"Not really," George said. "It looked new, but that doesn't mean it is. Do you have a Granddad Peter or something?"

"No," Agatha said, "But my dad's brother, the one who died in the war, was named Peter. Dad won't say hardly anything about him, but Grandmum showed me his Order of Merlin so it would fit right in if he'd performed special services to the school. It'd be neat to learn more about him."

George felt the smallest bit guilty that there was no plaque to show Agatha. "I'm sure it would be," Fred said, "Do you want us to show you the plaque?"

George glared at his Fred, wishing that telepathy was real so that he could tell his twin off for getting a perfectly nice girl's hopes up.

Fred noticed the look, if not quite getting the reason for it. "What?"

"Nothing," George said, "but I hope you remember where the plaque was because I don't."

"I'm pretty sure I do," Fred said, still not sure what he had done to upset George. "Mostly. I remember its general location, or at least some of the trophies near it. Maybe. I think. I can probably narrow down which half of the trophy room it was in."

Agatha chuckled. "I take I shouldn't count on either of you to be able to find it in anything resembling a short amount of time."

"That would seem to be wise," George said. "You might be better off looking on your own."

"No. I'd love it if you helped me look," Agatha said. "I've got homework to do tonight and don't think I'll finish it all, but I should be free Wednesday after dinner. Would you be able to go then?"

"Sure," Fred said. "We got all our homework done over the weekend. Meet here?"

"Right," Agatha said. "I'll see you Wednesday then. Good night."

"Night," Fred and George echoed back. They remained where they were as Agatha headed down the stairs towards Hufflepuff. Fred waited for her to disappear from view before he said anything to George. "What was that about?"

"What were you thinking, telling her that we'd help her find the plaque?" George said. "You know there isn't one."

"So we can't find it," Fred said. "What a shame. It's not like we gave her reason to think we were reliable or anything. Besides, she would have gone looking on her own after you told her about it."

"Yes, but I don't want to be there when she finds out it doesn't exist," George said. "Plus it won't take her nearly as long to search the trophy room if she has two people helping her than it would on her own."

"She's a Hufflepuff," Fred said. "They do that entire pull-together thing. If we don't help her, she's probably got half a dozen friends who will. Watch, she'll probably bring them all with her on Wednesday. And what did you tell her there was a plaque for if you didn't want her looking for it."

"It was the first reason I thought of for us to be wanting to know about Peter Pettigrew." George threw his hands up in exasperation. "I didn't know he was her dead war hero uncle that she doesn't know anything about!"

Fred still wasn't sure what this had to do with anything, so he decided to change the subject. "I suppose you think that helping Miss Pettigrew with her search is a bit of a waste of time, since we are no closer to finding Percy's boyfriend than we were this morning."

"We can do this again tomorrow," George suggested. "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We're bound to catch him at one of them. Until then... To the common room?"

"Sure."


	4. Kitchens

By the time the Great Hall had emptied on Tuesday evening the twins were baffled. "Now," Fred said. "It's possible that we missed him at lunch, _maybe_ breakfast if he woke up really early and then took food someplace else to eat it, but there's no way he came down to dinner."

"Maybe he sneaks into the kitchens or something," George said. "Speaking of kitchens, the map says they're just under the Great Hall, so I vote we break in and steal some food."

"Excellent idea," Fred said, "We should have done it before dinner."

"If we'd gotten caught trying and been given detention, we wouldn't have been able to keep a look out for Pettigrew during dinner," George said.

"Fair point. Looks we go down that hall over there-" Fred pointed. "-and then there's a door that opens into the kitchens."

Only there wasn't. There was a painting of a bowl of fruit where the door ought to be. As Fred began attempting to guess the password, George consulted the map. After a few seconds word appeared by the door. _Tickle the pear._

"Try tickling the pear," George said.

Fred turned to look at George, silently asking if he was being serious.

George shrugged. "That's what the map says to do."

Fred reached out a hand and tickled the pear, causing a handle to spring out of the painting. "Wicked. I wonder if the map knows the passwords into the other houses. We could sneak into the Slytherin dorms and let a niffler loose or something."

"That's a little unimaginative don't you think. We already did a niffler not two weeks ago." George frowned at the painting. "Right. You crack the door open and I'll peak through. If the coast is clear I'll slip in and grab something."

"Got it."

George looked through the opening and saw a swarm of small creatures wearing towels pressed with the Hogwart's crest scuttling over the tables, gathering up dirty dishes and taking them off to a sink in the corner. "House elves," George whispered. "Quite a lot of them. I don't see any food, but if we asked nicely they might be willing to give us some."

"Or they might run off and tell the Headmaster that students are sneaking around where they shouldn't be," Fred said. "House elves have to obey their masters, don't they?"

"Yeah, but it's not actually against the rules to go into the kitchens is it?" George asked. "Here. You wait outside and I'll see if they're friendly." George walked into the kitchen, and several dozen eyes the size of tennis balls latched onto him. "Erm... hello."

"Hello, young sir," one of the nearer house elves said. "Is there anything we can be doing for you?"

"Yes," George said. "Could you get me dinner for two, please? Whatever you've got cooked up so that we can take it back to the common room."

The house elf nodded and disappeared into what must be the pantry, returned faster than George thought possible with a basket piled high with food. "Nobby is not knowing what young sir is wanting, so-"

"I'm sure whatever you packed is fine," George said. Much better than not having dinner at any rate. "I'll bring your basket back tomorrow. Good night."

"The house elves are brilliant," George said once he was out of the kitchens. "They gave me all this as soon as I asked for it. The next time Gryffindor has a party, we'll have to bring real food rather than just eating everyone's Honeyduke's sweets. Fred? Are you listening to me?"

Fred was standing against the opposite wall, glaring down at the map in his hands. "What?"

"I've got food. Let's get going, unless you want to eat down here?" They were less likely to be caught with food they were maybe not supposed to have, but it would also be a lot more suspicious if they were caught.

"Nah," Fred said. "Lead the way." He looked at the basket. "Are there any sandwiches in there? We could eat as we walk."

Rather than talking, Fred and George spent the entire walk to Gryffindor tower devouring the contents of the basket. "I think there's something funny going on with Pettigrew," Fred said as soon as they were safety tucked away in one of the corners of the common room. "He didn't go to dinner, and he's spent the last four nights sleeping with Percy. You'd think someone besides us would have noticed by now."

"Unless he's supposed to be in Percy's dorm," George said. "Fred, you're the one compulsively checking the map. Do you remember all of Percy's roommates' names?"

Fred's lips pursed in concentration. "Let's see... there was Peter Pickering... and Daniel Bones... and Graham Hopkins. I don't think there was a fifth person, but sometimes rooms only have four people in them."

"What if he's the fifth boy in the dorm?" George said. "Then no one would think twice about him being up there all the time."

"Rather clever of Percy," Fred said. "So why doesn't Agatha know about him then?"

"Fred! George!" The twins turned to see Charlie come barreling towards them. "Where have you been? Bill was worried when you didn't come down to dinner."

"Sorry about that," George said, trying to sound sheepish. "We thought that we'd do a bit of exploring before dinner, but we got lost and by the time we figured out where we were dinner was over."

"Oh." Charlie still looked rather concerned. "I don't have any food, but one of my roommates-"

"Don't worry about it. Someone else already took pity on us." And then, to take Charlie's mind off of who, Fred changed the subject. "So do you know what's going on with Percy's boyfriend?"

"Percy's... boyfriend?" Charlie repeated. "Our brother Percy? But I thought he-"

"So did we," Fred said, "but he's got a boyfriend, all right. Big bloke, bit of a mustache, but I hear he's planning on shaving it off. Seen him round?"

Next to Fred, George leaned his forehead up against his palm.

"I haven't," Charlie said. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Look, I just remembered that I need to... finish some homework, so if you're both fine.."

"We're absolutely spiffing," Fred said. "Good night, Charlie."

Charlie very quickly disappeared up the stairs to the boy's dorms. "And there he is off to tell Bill," Fred said.

"I'm not sure we want Bill to know about this just yet," George said.

"You worry too much. What's the worst that Bill can do?"


	5. What Bill Knew

Five minutes later Bill came tromping down the stairs, looking far more upset than Fred thought some good-natured ribbing warranted.

"I know," Bill said, "that the two of you enjoy taking the mickey out of Percy, and pushing limits, and generally trying to make people laugh, but you've got to learn that some things just aren't funny."

"Look, if you've got a problem with Percy having a boyfriend you should probably take it up with him," Fred said. "We don't know anything. We only saw them together."

"Which is the problem," Bill said. "If you were repeating stuff you'd heard from other people it wouldn't be such an issue, but where you're making up nasty rumors-"

"What rumors?" Fred demanded. "We told Charlie that Percy had a boyfriend. It's true. We saw him. How is that a rumor?"

Bill paused, looking rather confused, and George took the opportunity to blunt Fred's idiocy. "Well, we didn't actually see them doing anything, but they were sitting suspiciously close together."

"Way closer than they needed to be to practice stirring potions," Fred said, catching on to the idea.

"And it's not like Percy needs to practice stirring potions," George added. "Even _we_ don't need to practice stirring potions, so there's no way a couple of third years would. If Peter was a third year. The attempt at a mustache made him look older."

Bill blinked. "Peter?"

"Was that what you got out of all this?" George asked. "Yeah, Peter was the name on his books, so we assume he's Peter."

"It's that or he stole Peter Pettigrew's books," Fred said. "Which I haven't ruled out."

"Nah, I think Percy has more class than to go out with a book thief," George said. "And who would steal a potions book with someone else's name written on the back cover? They'd get caught right quick."

"Wouldn't be worth the trouble," Fred added.

"Right," Bill said, sounding a bit strained. "So that's all there is to it. You saw Percy with a boy, assumed they were together, and eagerly shared the juicy gossip with Charlie."

"Yeah," Fred said. "What did you think there was to it?"

"That's not any-" Bill began, but he stopped and gave the twins a look that suggested he was peering into their souls, weighing the contents, and finding them wanting. "Look, you two are not exactly the most trustworthy people around-"

"Come on, Bill," Fred said. "We can keep secrets."

"Keep secrets, yes," Bill said, "but I'm not concerned that you're going to shout this out during the middle of dinner or anything like that. It's-" Bill broke off and took a deep breath. "If I tell you this, I need the pair of you not to bother Percy about it."

Neither George nor Fred could keep the hint of a smile from crossing their face. Even if they couldn't bother Percy about _this_ per se, they were sure to find a use for it somehow. Especially if they could get Percy to let his secret slip.

Bill glared at them. "And by bother I mean, if Percy so much as finds out that you know about this I will write Mum and tell her that you've been skiving off homework to torment Percy."

Fred gulped.

"We'll be very careful," George said. "We won't tease Percy about this or set up pranks around or anything. Promise."

"Cross our hearts and hope to die," Fred added.

Bill looked at them as though he was tempted to make another threat, but instead he said, "Percy asked a girl to go out with him during the Valentine's Hogsmeade visit. No, I won't tell you who, Perce didn't want you to know this much-"

"I can't imagine why," Fred said quite seriously.

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"Right," Fred said. "Percy doesn't find out we know about his girlfriend. Carry on."

"Percy was afraid you'd tease him mercilessly about it, especially as this girl is not terribly feminine. So when you told Charlie about Percy's 'boyfriend' he naturally assumed that you were making fun of his choice in girls."

"She doesn't actually have a mustache though," George said. "She could just jinx it off if one started growing." And if it didn't stay jinxed off then she could always shave it.

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you're asking out of curiosity about hygiene charms," Bill said. "Back onto our actual subject, I expect the pair of you to be polite to Percy and any girls he dates."

"What about Peter?" Fred asked. "Because if Percy has been two-timing on his girlfriend-"

"It was one date," Bill said. "And I don't know if anything came of it. Besides, Percy's not all that good with emotions. What you two saw could just as easily be a boy with a crush on Percy trying to cozy up to him."

"Speaking of Peter," George said. "Do you know if he's the kind of person who would try that? Just so that we can tell Percy about it."

"Despite what you might think, I don't know everyone in this school," Bill said. "And I would rather-"

"But you've got to know Peter, he's one of Percy's roommates," Fred said.

"That's Peter Pickering," Bill said. "And it's rude to interrupt people, Fred, so let me finish: I'll tell Percy about this Peter fellow coming on to him. You keep your mouths shut and don't go making up jokes about it, even between yourselves. All right?"

"Actually," George said. "Do you really need to mention Peter to Percy specifically. I mean, he might have noticed himself, turned Peter down, and not want to dwell on it."

"Yeah, he seemed pretty annoyed when we brought it a couple of days ago," Fred added helpfully. "It might be better if you dropped it."

Bill sighed. "I suppose it was too much to expect you _not_ to tease Percy about it the first chance you got. Fine, I won't mention it to Percy, but I want you two to lay off of him for the rest of the year."

"That's a whole three months," Fred complained.

"I'm sure you can find something else to occupy your time," Bill said. "You might try studying for your exams."

"Sure," George said. "Night, Bill. I'm sure you've got other stuff to do."

Bill nodded. "Night." He turned and disappeared into the dormitories.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or followed! Also, because people have mentioned it: I am not following the all the ages Rowling gave for the Weasley boys. I wanted Bill in this story and there is nothing in the books that contradicts him being in seventh year for Fred and George's first year, so I decided to have that be the case for this fic.


	6. Speculation

Fred turned to George. "So if Peter Pettigrew is really supposed to be sleeping in Percy's room, how come Bill doesn't know about it?"

George frowned. "The only way I can figure it is if he doesn't use his actual name. He was adopted or something and goes by a different name."

"But he never legally changed it and so the map still thinks he's Peter Pettigrew," Fred said. "That makes sense."

"I'm starting to be glad that you volunteered us to help Miss Pettigrew go through the trophy room," George said. "He's got to be a relative of hers. Pettigrew's not a common name."

"Maybe he's Peter Pettigrew Jr.," Fred said thoughtfully . "If the first Peter Pettigrew was deep into the war effort, he might not want lots of people knowing that he had a kid. One less target for the Death Eaters, right? Then he dies and the kid gets found by muggles. They call him John Smith or whatever and by the time he gets to Hogwarts he asks to go by it."

"But he doesn't legally change his name?" George asked. "And if he's Percy's age... when did the first Peter Pettigrew die?"

"Dunno."

"Because if he was any more than a baby when his parents died, you would think he'd know his own name," George continued. "At least his first name. But then why didn't Bill say Peter Pickering _or..._ "

Fred shrugged. "Maybe his new last name doesn't look much like Pettigrew, so Bill didn't think we would have confused it."

"Yeah, but you'd think he'd be thrilled to use his father's name after years of not having a family," George said. "And now that I think about it, it doesn't make much sense for him to have ended up in a muggle orphanage at all. Peter Pettigrew Sr. would have had to have someone else helping him take care a kid."

"He didn't have to," Fred said. "He could have-"

"Left a little kid alone for hours on end?" George gave Fred a level look, not unlike the look their mother would give them when she caught them trying to sneak out at night.

"Well, not when they were _little_ little," Fred continued. "He had to have had a wife, right. Or..." Fred paused for a second, chewing on his lip. "The wife raised the kid, and didn't tell anyone about him. Junior using her maiden name and that's why he didn't want to change it!"

George shook his head. "It works better than the muggle orphanage, but I find it hard to believe that she wouldn't have gone back to the truth after the war was over... And that no one wanted to know who her baby's father was."

"Maybe they thought it wasn't any of their business," Fred said. He leaned back in his chair and adopted an expression of smug superiority. "I've figured it out. Admit it, George."

George frowned, a flicker of doubt creeping into his mind. "Do you think that maybe this isn't any of _our_ business?"

"Of course not," Fred said. He swung forward. "He's sharing a bed with our older brother, isn't he? It's our solemn duty as little brothers to find out everything we can about him so that we can tease Percy about it."

George took a deep breath. There were some things that Fred just seemed to get. "Sharing a bed is awfully serious. I'm starting to think that we should tell Mum about this, or Bill at least. Especially since Percy took another girl to Hogsmeade."

"And how are we supposed to explain that," Fred said. "Short of showing them the map, which is a surefire way to get it confiscated."

"Bill might let us keep it," George said.

" _I_ don't want to bet on it." Fred looked around, trying to think of anything he could change the subject to, but his mind was fixed on Peter Pettigrew and how come Bill didn't know him. "You know, I think you're right about Mrs. Pettigrew. People would have talked about her lack of a husband, if nothing else."

"Unless she was living in hiding," George said. "Which would have been wise. Charlie says he wasn't allowed out for most of the war, and it was only Mum's brothers doing the actual fighting."

Fred made a face. "With just herself for company?"

"She'd have had the baby," George reminded him.

"You know, that makes it less believable," Fred said. "Who wants to deal with a baby all by themself? At least Mum had her knitting circle."

"Maybe a couple of her friends knew," George said. "Somebody had to, unless Senior was the one who delivered Junior."

"Yeah, but then they'd have to keep her secret after the war," Fred said. "Also, new problem. Why did Mrs. Pettigrew keep him secret after the war? Once she started taking a five year old round with her everywhere-"

"-people would have wanted to know about his father. And that's assuming that not very many people knew that she was married," George said. "We're starting to go in circles, mate."

"And if we go in circles long enough we might think of something new," Fred said. "Plus I can't really think of anything else, not with a mystery like this to chew on."

"Alright then, we get started on the other mystery," George said. "Why is perfect, rule-abiding Percy, asking some girl to go to Hogsmeade with him for Valentine's Day when he's already got a boyfriend?"

Fred shrugged. "Maybe Percy's got a secret sneaky side. He doesn't think Bill would approve of his boyfriend- _I_ know that Bill wouldn't approve of how far they're taking their relationship- and the Hogsmeade date is a red herring to throw Bill off of the scent."

"You're assuming that Bill digs into Percy's life the way we do," George said. "He's Head Boy and has N.E.W.T.s coming up, he doesn't have time for that."

"Then what's your better idea?"

"I dunno." George scratched his head. "We don't know what Percy and Peter are doing, just that they're spending a lot of time sitting very close to each other-"

"Because that's not suggestive at all."

"Let me talk, Fred. Maybe they're not together. Maybe, I dunno, Peter has nightmares or something and it helps to not be alone at night?" It came out as more of a question than a statement, but George tried to look as though he really thought it was possible.

"Still doesn't explain why he doesn't go to meals," Fred said. "Or why Bill doesn't know about him. I want to figure that out, even if he's not dating Percy. You do too, don't you?"

George nodded reluctantly.


	7. The Trophy Room

Fred was in favor of skipping dinner on Wednesday, just in case Miss Pettigrew finished early. "We can always go down to the kitchens and eat dinner after curfew," he said as he settled into a corner of the entrance hall.

"And if we get hungry while combing the trophy room for any mention of Peter Pettigrew?" George asked.

"That's not going to happen," Fred said.

"Maybe not to you," George said. "You can wait out here for Pettigrew if you want, I'm getting food."

Charlie gave George a funny look when he came in by himself, but George shrugged it off. "We're twins, not attached at the hip," he said as he sat down next to Charlie. "Fred got caught up in something, but I'm hungry."

Charlie did not comment as George shoveled steak-and-kidney pie into his mouth as fast as he could chew, but George wrapping a couple of slices in his handkerchief and pocketing them proved too much for him to resist. "You're not going to make Fred come down here and get his own food?"

"Who says any of this is for Fred?" George asked. He grabbed a handful of celery sticks as a nod towards healthy eating. "Well, I've got loads to do. See you round." George skipped out of the Great Hall and took up residence in the corner with Fred.

Fred did not seem to notice George's presence, so intent was he on the map and the labeled dots swarming in the Great Hall.

"You know, Miss Pettigrew might like it better if we waited out in the open like normal people," George said.

"Waiting in the corner is normal, George," Fred said absently. "It makes it less likely for people to trip on you. And he's still sitting in Percy's dormitory, rather than coming down for dinner. You know, I've been checking this map all day and Peter Pettigrew spent the entire time in Gryffindor Tower. He didn't even go to class!"

"You'd think McGonagoll would put up a fuss about that," George said. "Unless-"

"If he were actually sick he would be in the hospital wing," Fred said. "Percy would have dragged him there, remember when the curly-haired one-"

"Graham Hopkins."

"-caught cold and couldn't be bothered to pop in for a Pepper-Up Potion." Fred paused, frowning. "I'm not really sure what this tells us, but it doesn't make sense."

"We're missing something," George said. "Have you actually seen Peter Pettigrew move, or has he always sat in the same spot?"

"No, he moves around. Not a lot. Mostly around his dormitory, down into the common room... he's been up to Charlie's dorm a few times but that's it," said Fred. "So unless Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs went to all the bother of enchanting a extra dot to move around-"

"-with the sole purpose of confusing anyone who managed to find their map _and_ work out the password-"

"-there really is some bloke named Peter Pettigrew sleeping in Percy's bed every night," Fred finished. "Got any more theories?"

George shook his head, although he was already starting to feel an idea tickling the far corners of his mind. Unfortunately, it was blown clean out by a shout from near the staircase, "So that's where you two are. I hope you don't mind, but I brought my friend Sabrina along. She's great at finding things!"

Agatha Pettigrew turned out to be remarkably ferocious for a small, first-year Hufflepuff. By the time they had reached the trophy room she had already detailed a thorough search plan to an enthusiastic Sabrina and the rather less enthusiastic twins, including how each of them would sweep their quarter of the trophy room. She even had the foresight to assign Fred and George sections kitty-corner to each other so that they couldn't distract each other when they were supposed to be searching.

It was thirty minutes into the search, and Fred was starting to regret ever suggesting looking for Peter Pettigrew in the trophy room, when Agatha called them all over.

"I found him," she announced, as she happily pointed to a large plaque hanging on the wall engraved with lines of names. "Not the award for special services to the school, but his team won the N.E.W.T. Transfiguration Competition."

"That's great," George said. "You could ask McGonagall about him, I bet she'd remember him."

"I will, thanks," Agatha said. "I suppose I could write his friends, too."

"Friends?" Fred asked.

"The people he won the competition with," Sabrina said. Her tone of voice was polite enough, but the roll of her eyes suggested that she thought it was frightfully obvious. "They wouldn't have worked together if they didn't at least know each other."

"That doesn't mean that they stayed friends after they left Hogwarts," said Fred.

Sabrina looked at him as though he had something unpleasant dribbling down his face and she was trying not to make him feel two uncomfortable about it.

"No, I think they were still friends," Agatha said softly. "James Potter's on here!"

" _The_ James Potter?" Sabrina asked. "Harry Potter's father?"

"Who else could it be? They would have been about the same age, since Uncle Peter was father's younger brother. _And,_ " Agatha added, as though she could somehow sense Fred's lack of satisfaction with her explanation, "they both fought against You-Know-Who. They would have worked together if nothing else."

George leaned over Agatha's shoulder so that he could read the other two names off of Peter's row. "Along with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black."

"Not Black," Sabrina said. "He's in Azkaban. My brothers told me about it when I was little. Apparently, he was secretly working for You-Know-Who and when he was found out he blew up an entire street, killed thirteen people with a single curse."

"So you could write Remus Lupin," said George.

Fred smiled. "Well, it's starting to get late, so we should probably head off," he said. "Unless you still wanted to find the award for special services to the school. I don't think it had anything written on it about what it was for."

"Oh no, I've got a teacher to corner and a letter to write," Agatha said. "Thank you so much for helping me look through the trophy room."

"No trouble at all," Fred said with a flourish and a bow.

Agatha blushed. Sabrina rolled her eyes and elbowed Agatha. "Ask them about the kittens," she whispered loudly enough that the twins could hear.

Agatha grimaced. "No, they're not quite old enough-"

"They're ten weeks," Sabrina countered, "and you spent all last week fretting because your mother said you couldn't keep any and you were afraid you wouldn't be able to find good homes for them."

"What's this about kittens?" George asked before he girls could get caught up in an argument that he didn't quite understand."

"Agatha's cat had kittens," Sabrina said, "and she needs to find people to take care of them. Do you want one? Or two? My mum won't let me keep more than one, and there's four of them so..."

"Well-" George began.

"You don't have to decide right now," Agatha said. She gave a pointed look to Fred, who had an expression appropriate to being hit in the face with a heavy object. "They're only ten weeks old, so I really shouldn't be giving them out for a couple of weeks."

"Right," George said. "We'll think about it. Good night." He took Fred by the arm and steered him out of the trophy room.


	8. Cats and Rats

"We're idiots," Fred said as soon as they were out of earshot of the girls.

"Actually I thought that went rather well," said George. "We found something about Agatha's uncle for her-"

"She has a cat," Fred said.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Animals show up on the map," Fred said. "If Agatha has cats and she named one of them Peter-"

"-it would automatically get her last name and show up on the Map as Peter Pettigrew? I'm not sure I buy that."

"But it would explain so much," Fred said. "If Peter's a cat then of course none of Percy's roommates think twice about him sleeping on Peter's bed. And Bill can't be expected to know everyone's pets' names."

"Agatha said her kittens are too young to be giving away just yet," George said. He would have added that she should have mentioned if one of her kittens had already been claimed by Percy Weasley, but he knew that Fred could concoct some almost-plausible explanation for that.

"Her brother could have had a cat that had older kittens," Fred said, "and Percy could have adopted one-"

"But then you'd think the cat would be Peter _Weasley._ " And then George realized the really glaring hole in Fred's theory. "Besides, Percy already has Scabbers, so unless Peter ate him-"

"That would explain why Scabber's hasn't shown up on the map," said Fred. "The only other way to figure it is if Peter _was_ Scabbers, and that-"

-makes way more sense than Percy suddenly, without anyone noticing, acquiring a kitten."

"I suppose someone probably wrote a spell that can turn a person into a rat," Fred said. "Beats me why they would want to-"

"-because it would be so much easier to just kill him," George finished. "How's this for an idea, Peter Pettigrew was one of the people who made the map. After a falling out with his friends he bought a whole bunch of rats, named them all Peter Pettigrew and set them loose in the castle so that no one could use the Map to track him."

"Do you really think that's more likely?"

George shrugged. "I don't know where Scabbers came from, but I'm sure Percy had him before he came to Hogwarts."

"You're not helping your case." Fred didn't have anything else to help his own case so he left it at that, knowing that, if there was anything he was missing, George would think of it.

"I think it comes down to how Peter died," George said. "If they buried him, if he wasn't missing and presumed dead or something like that, then I don't see how he could be Scabbers. I suppose he could be a relative also named Peter-"

"He's Junior," Fred said with more confidence than he felt. "Some Death Eater felt bad about killing a kid, so they turned him into a rat instead."

"Because they knew a spell to turn someone into a rat off the top of their head," George said. He paused for a second, realizing for the first time the full implications of tuning someone into a rat. "I think turning someone into a rat would be crueler than killing them outright. They'd probably get eaten by a cat, or poisoned, or starve to death. _And_ they'd have a rat's brain wouldn't they, so would they think they were a rat or-"

"It wouldn't be that hard to find food," Fred said over George's continued theorizing. "Rats eat the same things as people."

"But people normally shut their food up so that rats can't get into it." George chewed the inside of his lip. "I suppose they could chew their way through wood eventually. If they thought of it soon enough."

George could see in his mind's eye, a small lump of fur gnawing plaintively at a the door to a pantry only to lapse into unconsciousness before reaching the food.

Fred turned a slightly greenish color. "We should probably look up what happened to Peter Pettigrew before we speculate any more."

George nodded. "And figure out how turning someone into a rat works. If it doesn't match up with how he died-"

"-or if it leaves the victim with the mind of a human inside of a rat-"

George raised an eyebrow, silently asking for Fred's reasoning.

"If someone turned me into a rat, the first thing I would do is knock over a bottle of ink, write 'I'm really a human, not a rat. Please turn me back.' and sit next to it," said Fred. If he was honest with himself he would panic a bit first, but that didn't really count.

"That'd be a wicked practical joke," George said. "How do you know he hasn't done it already and had it brushed off as a joke."

Fred burst out laughing.

"So we would have been blamed for it if he'd done it at home," George said, "but once Percy got to school-"

"-all he'd have to do is keep doing it and eventually McGonagall would have had to check."

"Unless there's no way to tell the difference between a rat and someone transfigured into one," George said, although he did not really believe that was the case. There were all sorts of spells to reveal magic and negate other spells, he'd heard Bill going on about them while extolling the virtues of cursebreaking to Mum and Dad in an attempt to show that it wasn't really _that_ dangerous of a career.

"Why wait until he's a Hogwarts?" Fred asked. "Mind you, if I had to end up as an animal, life as Percy's pet rat wouldn't be too bad-"

"-but you wouldn't want it for any longer than absolutely necessary."

"And if Scabbers had tried that at Hogwarts, we would have heard about it. Percy never would have shut up about it, you know how he is."

George opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again before speaking. "I know. I know. It's just-"

"-you've caught the idea and now it won't leave you alone." Fred tried not to look too smug about it. "That's how I've been about Peter Pettigrew in general all week. Maybe you're on to something."

"Nah," George said. "I think it makes me more nervous than anything."

"It is a bit creepy," Fred agreed.

George checked his watch. "If we're quick, we can make it to the library and see if Pettigrew's death made the Daily Prophet before curfew."

"We'd have to skip dinner," Fred said, entirely ignoring the fact that George had already eaten. "Unless you fancy sneaking down to kitchens after curfew and then back up to Gryffindor Tower-"

George handed him the piece of steak-and-kidney pie that he'd packed in his pocket.

"Thanks," said Fred. He took a large bite out of it and spoke as he chewed, "I suppose this means that you expect to go to the library tonight."

"I would make you eat some celery too-" George took a stick out of his pocket and waved it at Fred. "-but Madam Pince will chuck us out if she catches you eating in the library."

"I'll be done by the time we get there," Fred said through another mouthful of steak-and-kidney pie. He snatched the celery out of George's hand and took off running " _And_ I can eat the celery in that time. Bet you a sickle."

"You're on," George said, as he ran after Fred. He wasn't likely to win, no with Fred having a head start, but George currently had five of the six sickles the twins had come to Hogwarts with, so it didn't really matter.


	9. The Library

A/N: I have modified the last chapter, so you should probably go back and read the end if you haven't already.

* * *

When Fred and George came tearing into the library five minutes later, with Fred shouting that he had won, Madam Pince glared at them as though she wanted to bar them from even entering her sacred domain.

"Sorry," George said in a sort of fake whisper that was intended to seem quiet while carrying all the way over to Madam Pince's desk. "We'll be quiet." George turned to Fred and said in an actual whisper, "I think the old Daily Prophets are in the reference section."

"You owe me a sickle," Fred said.

"I don't carry them around the castle," George said. Unlike Fred, who was probably going to lose all of his before he found anything to spend them on. "I'll give it to you when we get back to our room. Now hurry up, we've only got half an hour."

Fred shrugged and muttered, "Like we're going to find anything in that time," but he tore off to the old Prophets fast enough that Madam Pince clicked her tongue in disapproval.

George's optimism plummeted when he saw the stacks of newspapers and realized how many _years_ worth of papers they were going to have to sort through in order to find Pettigrew's death. Assuming, of course, that Pettigrew's death had really made the papers.

Fred elbowed his twin in the ribs. "Chin up, even if he died of 'natural causes' it would be worth mentioning in the obituaries, wouldn't it? We'll just have to be thorough."

"Right," George said. He supposed he should be cheered up by that, but the idea of thoroughly reading every article in decades-old Daily Prophets was a bit daunting. Why don't you start with December of 1981, just in case Pettigrew was killed after You-Know-Who's defeat and I'll start in..."

"1975," Fred suggested. "Bill told me that once that when he was really little Mum would take him down to a muggle playground near where they lived, but that they stopped a little before he turned four."

The logic of that seemed fishy to George, partly because he had no memory of Bill telling him such a thing, but he went over to the shelf marked 1975 and started looking through the newspapers one at a time.

"Well, what do you know, he did die after the war," Fred announced before George had even made it through a week's worth of papers. "Says here that he died trying to apprehend Sirius Black, when Black tried to do a runner after You-Know-Who's defeat. Give me a minute to find the original article, this is just a list of Order of Merlin recipients."

George put his year's worth of newspapers away and went over to his brother in time for Fred to give a shout of accomplishment and begin to read, "Fugitive Auror Black Apprehended After Killing Thirteen! Sirius Black, former Auror, now known to have passed information to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was apprehended yesterday at a scene that turned even the staunchest stomachs. 'I'll never forget it,' said Cornelius Fudge, Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, 'The entire street was gone, nothing left of it but a smoking crater. Bodies, everywhere. And Black's sitting in the middle of it, laughing like a maniac.'"

"He's not laughing in the picture they've got of him," George said. Indeed the expression Black's face very closely resembled Percy's shortly after one of the fourth years practicing banishing charms had accidentally sent their textbook flying into his stomach.

"Maybe he was putting up such a fuss that they had to stun him in order to take the mug shot," Fred suggested. "Continuing on... 'Muggle eyewitnesses report that Black was cornered by a man matching the desription of Peter Pettigrew who shouted, "Lily and James, Sirius, how could you?"' before Black drew his wand and cast the curse that destroyed the street. Pettigrew, longtime friend of that late Lily and James Potter, was disintegrated by Black's curse and had to be identified by his finger the largest portion of him the DMAC was able to find. Errgh, why do they need to tell us that? It's disgusting."

George snorted. "Gross things sell, I suppose. I'm surprised they didn't mention how Pettigrew's remains were splattered all over the sidewalk. They should have been, if it was some kind of overpowered blasting curse Black hit him with."

Fred shivered. "Maybe it wasn't. Maybe it was some kind of other curse that vaporizes people and... Scabbers is missing a toe, isn't he? On his right front paw."

"Yeah," George said, "but there's no way he's this Peter Pettigrew. If Black had cut off his finger and turned him into a rat before blowing up the street the muggles would have mentioned some kind of physical fight."

"Maybe," Fred said. "We've only got what the _Prophet_ said the muggles said and they certainly didn't question the muggles themselves-"

"-so we've got a thirdhand account at best and it's quite possible that something got lost along the way." George looked down at the photograph of Sirius Black in the newspaper. "Why didn't Black apparate out? There had to have been at least five minutes between the explosion and arrival of the DMAC, Black could have been long gone by the time they showed up."

"Could Pettigrew have turned _himself_ into a rat?" Fred asked.

"Probably," George said. "I can't see why he'd bother to learn- rats can get into all kinds of spaces. It'd be really useful for pranking-"

"-or spying-"

"-or hiding-"

"-or escaping crime scenes-"

"-but then why didn't he turn himself back once Black had been arrested and go home?" asked George. "Plus he'd have to have cut off his own finger and-"

"-if he blew up the street," Fred said, "if he killed all those muggles and made it look like Black had done it. Of course Black stuck around, he probably thought the Aurors were there to arrest Pettigrew after he mixed up a curse and blew the street up-"

"-and he let himself be taken into custody because he thought that the Ministry would sort it out, but they didn't, so he's been stuck in Azkaban unable to do anything about it ever since," George paused realizing what he had said. "We've got to tell somebody about this."

"That our brother's rat is secretly a mass murderer who framed someone else for his crimes and is living as a rat to avoid capture? McGonagall-"

"Not McGonagall," George said. "We'll tell Bill. We can make him promise not to confiscate the Map."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Some innocent bloke's locked up in Azkaban, Fred. I'll tell him anyway."


	10. Convincing Bill

When the twins entered the common room, Bill was sitting at one of the tables on the edge of the room, doing his homework. "We need to talk to you," George said.

"But not here," Fred added. "To much of a risk of being overheard." He nudged George in the ribs and nodded towards one of the chairs by the fire, where Percy was attempting to train Scabbers to fetch gobstones.

Bill took a deep breath. "Look, I know you two are curious about Percy's love life, but it's really none of your business who he goes to Hogsmeade with and-"

George shushed him. "It's not about Percy, promise."

"Then-"

"It's sensitive," George said. He grabbed hold of Bill's hand and yanked him in the direction of boy's dorms. "Come on. Let's go up to..."

"Your room," Fred said. "It's more likely to be uninhabited."

Bill looked down at his half finished essay and then back up at the twins. "Do we have to do this _now_?"

" _Yes_ ," George said at the same time Fred said, "It could probably wait until morning."

George gave Fred a disgusted look.

"What? Bill can't do anything about it by himself. He'd need to talk to Dumbledore or McGonagall or somebody and he can't do that until tomorrow morning," Fred said. "At least, not without arousing a certain someone's suspicions. So if you want to finish that essay, we can just-"

"Oh, no," Bill said, in a voice that would brook no excuses. "I want to know what's going on."

"Brilliant." George tried to smile, but found himself too nervous to do more than grimace. "Let's go."

"Okay," Bill said, once he had managed to kick out two of his roommates. "We're alone in my room, no one can possibly be listening to us, so what is it that you two are worked up about?"

George gulped. Despite his certainty that Bill was the best person to go to, he found himself hesitating to say anything. What if Bill thought they were trying to pull a prank on him?

"Scabbers is actually a person," Fred said. "His name's Peter Pettigrew and we think-"

"Hold it," Bill said. "That is completely bonkers. And wasn't Peter Petttigrew that bloke you thought was going out with Percy?"

"We have proof," George said, "but we need you to promise not to confiscate it." He folded his arms in front of his chest, as though he really would refuse to tell Bill anything if he didn't promise.

Bill paused, evidently torn between wanting to know what this 'proof' was and his duty as Head Boy to uphold the rules of the school. "Fine. As long as your proof isn't dangerous, I won't confiscate it. But if Filch catches you with it-"

"He won't." Fred took the Map out of his pocket, touched his wand to the parchment, muttered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," as softly as he could, and found Gryffindor Tower. "Here," he pointed a finger at the common room as he thrust the Map into Bill's face. "There's Percy, by the fire, and Peter Pettigrew's with him."

Bill took the Map and ran his fingers over the dots in the common room. Then he looked over to one of the boys' dormitories, where a dot labeled George Weasley was pacing frantically. "You have a map of the school that shows where everyone is?"

"That's not the point," George snapped. "The point is that Scabbers is Peter Pettigrew."

"All right," Bill said. "That's rather strange, but Percy found Scabbers in the garden one day. Maybe his last owner-"

Fred shook his head. "We looked through _everything._ Percy found Scabbers in mid-November 1981, didn't he?"

"I'm surprised that you remember that," Bill said, before his eyes widened in realization. "You don't, do you? You're guessing, based on..."

"We found a bloke named Peter Pettigrew," Fred said. "Supposedly, he was killed on the first of November 1981, by Sirius Black-"

"I remember that," Bill said. "Sirius Black killed thirteen people with a single curse. It was all over the _Daily Prophet_ , but Mum and Dad wouldn't talk about it."

"We looked through the records," George said, not mentioning that said records consisted of two newspaper articles. "And all they ever found of Pettigrew was a finger, same as Scabbers is missing. We talked through everything and it only makes sense if Pettigrew turned himself into a rat and ran off after blowing up the street-"

"You're making it sound like Peter Pettigrew was the one who cast the curse and killed all those muggles," Bill said, "but Sirius Black was the one selling secrets to You-Know-Who. Why would _Pettigrew_ want to fake his death like that?"

"I hadn't thought about it," George admitted. "But-"

"How did they know that Black was the one leaking stuff?" Fred asked. "The Order of Merlin article took it for granted that Black was a Death Eater, likely You-Know-Who's second in command, but all the first article said was that Black was 'now known' to have been a spy and all they had to support it was what Pettigrew shouted at the scene."

Bill frowned. "I haven't ever studied this, but he came from a family of Death Eaters. His cousin-"

"That's not evidence," Fred said. "Didn't they say what he'd told You-Know-Who when he was tried?"

"He was an Auror," Bill said. "A lot of the things he leaked were probably top secret."

"But they wouldn't have still been top secret after the war," Fred said. "They would have been stuff like battle plans and when Ministry officials would have been vulnerable, wouldn't they? The kind of stuff that's only good for a couple of months at most."

"As an Auror he might have been more useful passing false information," George added. "Making sure that Death Eaters didn't get caught."

"This all might be true," Bill said, "but it's not going to convince _anyone_ , especially not the Wizengamot, that Black isn't a Death Eater."

"It doesn't matter," George announced. Bill looked astonished and even Fred, who could generally be expected to be on level with George, looked confused. "From what the witnesses described Black couldn't have turned Pettigrew into a rat himself, so if Scabbers is Peter Pettigrew then Black is innocent of at least one of the murders he was convicted of." He glared a Bill and Fred, silently daring them to disagree.

"All right," Bill said. "I'll take this to McGonagall. If there's any way to tell if Scabbers is an animagus, she'll know it."


	11. No Turning Back

The next morning, when the rest of the school was at breakfast, Fred and George went poking through Percy's dorm, pulling blankets off of beds and overturning pillows. "Here, Scabbers, Scabbers, Scabbers. Come out. We know you're in here somewhere," Fred said.

"We don't want to hurt you," George added. "We're just going to take you down to breakfast with us. Won't that be nice." He flipped over the pillow on what must have been Percy's bed, revealing a fat brown rat trembling in terror.

George picked Scabbers up. The rat squeaked and wiggled a bit, but didn't turn into a full-grown man and curse George so he figured they were doing pretty well so far. "Got him," George announced.

"Good," Fred said. "Now we just have to take him down to the Great Hall and put him in Livia Cohen's bag."

Scabbers stopped struggling and laid placidly in George's hand. If George hadn't already been suspicious, he might have thought that the rat had given up and resigned himself to whatever fate the twins had in store for him. As it was, George considered his suspicions confirmed. Peter Pettigrew had probably decided that being stuck in a girl's bag wasn't too bad of a fate.

"I blame you," Fred continued, as the twins headed out of Gryffindor Tower and down towards the Great Hall. "This is probably the lamest prank ever, but _you_ insisted on doing your stupid Transfiguration thing-"

"It's not stupid," George said. "It's really cool. And McGonagall might give me extra credit if it all works out. Speaking of which, we've got to go see McGonagall before breakfast."

"But I'm hungry," Fred whined. "Can't it wait until after breakfast."

"You can go to breakfast first if you want to," George said, even as he took the turn down to the Transfiguration classroom. "I'm going to talk to Professor McGonagall."

"Fine," Fred said. He made a grab at Scabbers, but George pulled the rat close to his chest where Fred couldn't get him. "Give me Scabbers so I can pull the lame prank you came up with."

George narrowed his eyes. "You said you would rather put him in one of the pitchers of pumpkin juice."

"That was a joke," Fred said. "I wouldn't really do that. Scabbers might drown and then Percy would never forgive me."

Scabbers wiggled closer to George, obviously distressed. "Oh, don't worry," George cooed. "I won't let Fred hurt you."

Fred rolled his eyes. "So what are you going to do if McGonagall is still eating breakfast? We're not going to wait for her, are we?"

George stopped in his tracks. In all their planning it had not occurred to him that Bill might fail to convince McGonagall to have a chat with him before classes started. "Well, I..."

Fred rolled his eyes. "We've probably already missed breakfast," he said, "and McGonagall always leaves before it's over anyway, so she's sure to be there."

Sure enough, when they reached the McGonagall's corridor, they could quite clearly hear McGonagall saying, "I understand your concern for your brothers, Mr. Weasley, but can't this wait until the end of the day? My first class is going to be here in ten minutes."

Fred snickered. "D'you think she knows how far her voice carries?" he whispered to George, even as Bill said, "Professor, if the twins are wrong, this won't take ten minutes and if they're right..."

"Then it would be worth worth my third years missing a class," McGonagall said, "but suspect that your brothers have pulled one over on you, Mr. Weasley."

"In which case we'll have to laugh at ourselves for falling for such a stupid prank." Scabbers began to wiggle and squeak, like he did when he wanted to be put down, but George did not let him go. Instead he gripped Scabbers tightly with both hands, making him squeak even more. "Professor, I didn't come to you just to make sure. I believe them."

"Really?" McGonagall said, and George could practically see one of her eyebrows arch a silent question.

"Yes, Professor, I do." There was a pause, and George could hear the rustle and thumps of someone looking through a stack of books. "You don't need more time to look it up, do you?"

Fred opened the door, holding it so that George could go through without needing to bother with his hands. "Thanks," George muttered.

"You're the one with the rat," Fred said. He walked several paces into the room, George following him, before he looked over to where McGonagall was sitting at her desk. Bill was looking over her shoulder as she flipped through a book. "D'you want us to wait outside or something?"

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said. "I'm merely checking that the spell I wish to use will not harm your brother's rat, assuming that he is actually a rat."

Scabbers bit George, causing George to yelp and grip him tighter. "Can we hurry up, please," George said, his voice tight with pain. "I'm not sure I- OUCH -can keep hold of him if-"

Bill hurried over to George, as Fred backed off to guard the door "Put him down on one of the desks," Bill said. "I'll stun him."

"Don't!" McGonagall said, rising from her seat. "Rats are too small to use stunning spells on, you're likely to kill him." Scabbers stopped wiggling.

"That did the trick, Professor," George said. "He's stopped struggling." George held Scabbers up at eye level, far enough from his face that he wasn't risking a bite. "In fact, I think he might have fainted."

McGonagall paused halfway between her desk and the boys, evidently torn between a desire to go back and double-check the spell she was going to use and a desire to get this over with before anyone got any more hurt than they already were. "Scabbers took a couple of chunks out of his hand," Bill said, and that decided the matter.

McGonagall stepped forward, until she was standing in front of George. "When I tell you to, put the rat down on the floor and take a couple of big steps backwards."

"Yes, ma'am."

McGonagall took her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at the rat in George's hands. "Mr. Weasley, it may be best if you are prepared to stun." She waited half a moment and said, "Now."

George flung Scabbers on the floor, not really caring if the fall injured him, and backed up as quickly as he could. Scabbers appeared to be too disoriented from his fall to run away and before George had reached Fred, McGonagall had hit the rat with a bolt of blue light from her wand.

The transformation was not instantaneous, rather Scabbers swelled up like a balloon being inflated until he was almost as tall as McGonagall and a good bit wider. Pettigrew, he couldn't be Scabbers now that he definitely wasn't a rat, looked around the room with an expression of pure terror. McGonagall looked like she might faint.

Bill did not even look surprised. "Stupefy," he said and Pettigrew dropped back down to the floor. Bill smiled apologetically at McGonagall. "Better safe than sorry. Besides, he's been living as Percy's _pet_."

"Right." McGonagall sounded a bit like she had just had something go down the wrong pipe. "Mr. George Weasley, I think it would be best if you had Madam Pomfrey look at those bites. Fred can go up to the hospital wing with you. I forbid either of you to tell anyone what happened-"

"What if Percy-" Fred began.

"Don't tell _anyone_ ," McGonagall repeated, "I'll speak with you both about this once I've got things sorted out with the Ministry, but until then keep it to yourself. I don't know if any of you know who this man is, but he's supposed to be dead."

"We know who he is," George said. "What's going to happen to him? Is-"

"That is up to the Ministry, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said. She gave the twins a stern look. "I would not be surprised if both of you were called into the Ministry for questioning in the next few days. Be prepared for it."

* * *

A/N: Due to the shift in focus at this point, I have decided to end the story here and post Sirius's trial as its own story, _Interested Parties_ , the first chapter of which has been posted. Also a special thanks to all who had reviewed. Your words warm my heart.


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